They long have floundered under a dark-cloud legacy of a billy goat, black cat and Bartman ball. Now, add to that, perhaps, Louis Reinhart of Metamora.

But don’t blame Mr. Reinhart. Blame the short-sighted team he adores.

His feel-good story recently was touted in this newspaper and others nationwide. The 100-year-old retirement-home resident had been invited to join first-pitch ceremonies for a celebration of the 100th anniversary of Wrigley Field. But when the wheelchair-bound Reinhart arrived a little late — though still plenty of time before festivities began — the Cubs scratched him from the pregame lineup.

“It was disappointing,” says his daughter, Julie Harper of Roanoke.

Just to be clear, neither Reinhart nor his relatives called me about this. A reader alerted me that — for reasons unknown — Reinhart got booted from the ceremony.

“I think this is terrible on the Cubs’ part,” the reader wrote.

Surely, I thought, there had to be a solid reason for the turnabout. Surely, I figured, the Cubs don't want to coax another curse into play.

But Wrigley ushers turned them away, saying the goat was too stinky. Sianis — and, according to legend, the goat — were so insulted that Sianis threw up his hands and declared, “The Cubs ain’t gonna win no more. The Cubs will never win a World Series.”

And they haven’t.

But that hasn’t stopped legions of fans from following the star-crossed team. One is Louis Reinhart. He was a pretty good ballplayer during high school in Villa Grove, about 20 miles south of Champaign. Later, he worked as a farmer and carpenter, and now resides at Snyder Village in Metamora.

Page 2 of 3 - Reinhart, though in a wheelchair, gets around fine. In anticipation of his 100th birthday on March 18, his daughter Harper wrote to the Cubs. She described his lifelong devotion to the team, asking if the team could send him a ball or other souvenir.

The response was more than expected. Cubs President Tom Ricketts sent a letter expressing birthday wishes. Days later, the team invited Reinhart to the April 4 celebration marking the centennial of Wrigley Field.

Reinhart was asked to partake in the pre-game ceremonies. Though details weren’t clear, his daughter says he was to be on the field somewhere. From his wheelchair, he might sit near the infield, where he’d hand over a baseball to be relayed to the pitcher’s mound. Or, Reinhart and the ball might be wheeled to the mound. There, four Cubs greats — Ernie Banks, Billy Williams, Fergie Jenkins and Ryne Sandberg — were to throw ceremonial first pitches.

In stories that ran before the big day, some headlines got that part wrong, suggesting Reinhart would actually throw the first pitch.

“He’s a hundred years old,” his daughter says with a chuckle. “He can’t throw that far.”

Indeed, if any 100-year-old man in a wheelchair can chuck a ball from the mound to the plate, the Cubs should sign him as their fourth starter.

Anyway, the plan was for Reinhart, his daughter and several other family members to arrive at Wrigley by noon, in anticipation of the 1:20 pm start time. Usually, the trip from Metamora takes 2 1/2 hours, so they left at 9 a.m. But because of traffic delays, they didn’t get into the park until 12:15 p.m.

Still, that’s just 15 minutes late. It’s not as if all 41,000 fans were tapping their toes, waiting for an old man to arrive so the game could start.

Still, Cubs reps told Reinhart his tardiness meant he couldn’t take part in the ceremonies. The family was ushered to their seats: no need to go anywhere near the field for the celebration.

“They said it was a time issue,” his daughter says.

But that didn’t make much sense. From their seats, the Reinhart clan waited for a half-hour until ceremonies began. Surely with 30 minutes to work with, Cubs reps could have gotten Reinhart onto the field in time. It’s not as if he needed a lot of rehearsal to simply hand over a ball.

“We thought we had enough time,” his daughter says.

But apparently punctuality is super-big deal for the Cubs. Granted, their fans have been waiting 106 years for another championship. Yet the team couldn’t offer a few minutes of patience for an old-timer traveling all the way from Downstate Illinois for an on-field thrill of a lifetime.

Page 3 of 3 - Plus, others were disappointed. Family and friends planned to watch TV coverage of the festivities, just to see Reinhart.

“I know a lot of people were upset because they’d planned their day around it,” Reinhart’s daughter says. “Even Snyder Village brought in a big-screen TV. It would’ve been the highlight of their day.”

What’s the Cubs’ take on all this? To me, silence. I left messages with the media-relations office, along with the marketing rep who worked with the family. No call-back. Then again, on voice mail, I did identify myself as a reporter from Peoria — and you know how the current Cubs front office feels about Peoria. In the past two years, they’ve severed their minor-league affiliation in Peoria and ended the Cubs Caravan stop here. Anymore, there’s little Cubbie love for P-town.

Still, Reinhart’s daughter remains gracious. She says Reinhart had a good time watching the game. And she is grateful to the Cubs for the seats and opportunity.

Yet there’s no mistaking the sadness in her voice about her dad missing the ceremony.

“He never even was allowed onto the field,” she says quietly.

At the park, she says, Cubs reps offered to invite Reinhart to take part in the first pitch of another game — sometime. As of Monday, when I first talked with Reinhart’s daughter, the Cubs had yet to make good on that promise. But by Wednesday, though they couldn’t bother to call me, they coincidentally managed to call Reinhart’s daughter to make plans for a game in June.

That’s good. But remember, Louis Reinhart is 100 years old. Centenarians can become slow and late, and sometimes miss appointments. The Cubs better be praying that nothing happens to foil the new plans — lest a curse of unprecedented, indescribable doom befall the club.

Meantime, in preparation for Louis Reinhart’s visit in June, perhaps the Cubs should think back to 1945. It’s likely not yet time for the Cubs to think World Series. But it’s certainly time to stop treating guests like stinky goats.

PHIL LUCIANO is a Journal Star columnist. He can be reached at pluciano@pjstar.com, facebook.com/philluciano, 686-3155 or (800) 225- 5757, Ext. 3155. Follow him on Twitter @LucianoPhil.